


A Ride, Milord?

by kaeleah_whalien



Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternative Universe Victorian, Eventual Hatsome, Everyone Is Gay, M/M, Trott is much younger
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-22
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-03-07 23:50:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13446024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeleah_whalien/pseuds/kaeleah_whalien
Summary: "They're definitely banging.""Kim, The Earl of Somerset is not banging his riding teacher, this isn't one of your filthy novels."In which Smith has a terrible crush on his charge, who everybody thinks is having a scandalous tryst with his hot riding teacher,  Mr.Hornby. Or alternatively, 'definitely not a trashy Victorian romance novel'.





	A Ride, Milord?

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, this is my first ever fic, be kind and enjoy.

Smith stoked the red-hot coals of the great fireplace, watching as smoke drifted up through the brick chimney. Careful not to get any soot on his pristine clothing. Satisfied with the glow, he placed the poker beside it and turned reluctantly to face the other in the room. Richards met his eyes with a cheeky grin as she sat cross-legged in one of the massive plush seats arranged in a semi-circle around the fire. Hair tied up in a messy bun and knees dirty from cleaning the countless floors of the estate - she looked a mess. Her preferred rouge lip color, while it complemented her skin and dark hair, was more appropriate for a street corner. He frowned at her. Uncaring savage that she was, decided to toss the book he'd placed on the side table at him. Smith caught it, much to her chagrin. Wandering over to return it to its original position, she danced away - scared he might hit her with it. As much as he was tempted - not worth the whining. 

"Don't remember hiring a couple copper whore instead of a maid." Smith snarked, mirth in his eyes.

"I'm far prettier than your mother," She bit back, " and don't you forget it." 

He couldn't help the laughter that escaped. Their conversations always went this way, a mix of dirty humor and bickering. He tutted and gestured for her to turn so he could correct her hair. Dutifully, she turned and with practiced fingers, he twisted her short hair into a tight bun more worthy of being seen around the manor. He constantly felt torn about running the place whilst the head butler, Mark Turpin, was away with the lord. Admittedly people seemed happier without the tight ship Turps has run. Smith could not help but see himself as a stable boy turned simple manservant, good at serving and talented enough at fixing things around the house. Maybe one day he'd make a half decent majordomo if he worked hard enough.

Kim, however, was possibly the worst maid you could ever meet. She was lucky Smith considered her a close friend, and that the Earl was so fond of her. The short Malaysian would always do exactly as she was told, and not a blink more. The contrast to Smith's steadfastly hardworking attitude was clear. Taking a look at the grandfather clock that chimed behind her, a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Trott would return any second. Her beady eyes caught it the movement and opened her mouth to question him. He rolled his eyes and ignored her, curling a large hand around her arm and beginning to pull. Quickly he steered her out of the room, her indignation at being manhandled out quickly replacing her interrogation plans. They exchanged a few joking words at the threshold before saying goodbyes. Smith went to shut the door, bidding her welcome to bother some other staff. She stuck a foot in the door frame,

"Pot's about two silver now if you want to get in on-"

" I refuse to take part in your fucking bet, Quimothy."

"Pun intended? Well, your choice Sir." She said petulantly, removing her foot and allowing him to shut it, " But for the record, they're definitely banging!"

He could only bitterly roll his eyes. The rest of the staff had taken to betting on the relationship status of their Earl, Christopher Trott. He couldn't blame them, there was little to do in the massive house and sprawling grounds. The Lord himself was out in London, having left Trott here in their countryside property for the winter with only a retinue of servants and teachers. The current gossip was that there was something going on between the Earl and his handsome riding teacher Mr. Hornby - the maids, in particular, were obsessed with the two. He couldn't help the jealousy that rose up every time he caught them whispering about it.

"Who's banging?" The question rang out from behind him, and Smith's heart pounded. The word was odd spoken from the civilized tongue of Chris Trott. A blush crept up on Smith's face and he cursed his pale skin. In comparison, Trott was lightly sun-kissed, windswept in a boyishly handsome way. Returning from his riding lesson he wore his usual garb - ridiculously tight everything. Apparently, it was the current fashion. All Smith knew was that he looked good enough to eat. 

" No-one milord, would you like to sit?" He managed, the question only a politeness. It was their tradition after a day out on horseback the Earl would curl up by the fire with a cup of tea and a book. Smith would stand ready nearby like a good manservant and answer the occasional question.

" I think I would." laughed Trott, with an interested grin that said he wouldn't be leaving it there. Smith walked over to take his jacket and hang it up on the rack nearby. His hand quickly replaced Trott's own to deftly unbutton his blazer, placing it next to the jacket while Trott strode over to lounge in a velvet seat. He was dwarfed by it's ridiculous size, and Smith reminded himself that the lord's son was only seventeen. Still, as he took a knee to remove his boots it was hard to ignore the proximity to Trott's crotch. Everything about being around Trott was harder recently, Smith thought uncomfortably, shifting slightly. 

" You really need a haircut, my man." Trott chuckled, reaching out to tug on Smith's auburn locks slightly. Smith cursed all the gods simultaneously. "And a shave!" Trott added teasingly, tilting Smith's head by his chin to look him in the eyes. As always, warm brown met his own blue. Trott's were round with innocence, at odds with the wicked smile that curled around his lips. His smooth skin a reminder that Smith had forgone shaving once again. He'd wanted to grow a beard in the lord's absence, fearing the baby face that came with a clean-shaven Smith. People seemed to respect him more with a beard. Despite that, he knew he'd shave it tonight. 

Whatever Trott was looking for in Smith's eyes, he seemed pleased enough to release his face and allow him to stand. 

"You would not believe Ross' stamina, ran me ragged all day! I can barely walk I tell you. You'd like the man - he delights in my torture."

"I'm sure I would milord." He muttered, tugging off the second boot.

"I don't think the style is worth it Smith," Trott groaned, massaging his thighs, "I'd take them off now but what would the neighbors think ey!"

It was a silly phrase considering they were miles out from anyone but Smith rolled his eyes at the dumb joke even as his chest tightened. The neighbors would assume Smith was taking advantage of his lord's teenage son. It struck deep considering that was exactly what he daydreamed about. In moments alone it was sometimes all he could think of. He could imagine Trott stripping down in that effortlessly confident manner of his, with each piece shooting him a teasing grin. Crawling into Smith's lap and - shit. He was so fucked. At least he wasn't alone in his attraction, any of his colleagues would sell limbs to share a bed with the earl, sexuality be damned. 

Placing the boots beside the chair, Smith bowed and excused himself to fetch tea - which they both knew Kim would have 'forgotten' to brew. Trott waved him away, already getting comfortable, opening his book up. As soon as he'd escaped the immediate vicinity, Smith took a deep breath. This annoying crush had been brewing ever since the lord had left. The estate had become far more relaxed and Smith had found himself spending a dangerous amount of time with Trott. Countless hours spent in the game room joking and laughing over various boards and cards. Trott would win and Smith would swear like a sailor, sharing a glass of something Smith couldn't pronounce. 

The noble was incredibly charming. It almost allowed Smith to excuse himself for swooning like one of the maidens after they helped bathe him. Smith turned pink at the thought. The straining in his trousers was getting impossible to ignore, thankfully his trousers were looser than Trott's ridiculous pants. Smith found his way into one of the ground floor bathrooms. Overly lavish like the rest of the pace, he scooped up a handful of water from the marble basin. A few cool splashes later, he assessed himself in the ornate mirror. Considering the options. Taking his time before returning to Trott and the inevitable questioning.

One, Trott was actually interested in Smith. It would explain the touching and constant innuendo. Unlikely, he decided anyway, the boy probably liked women like a normal person. Two, he was having delusions and should probably see a doctor fast like. That was off the table, he'd be in jail before he could finish the word homosexual. Then three - Trott had figured out a better game to play and for some reason set his sights on fucking with Smith. The conclusion? Likely.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you at least kinda enjoyed that? Kind of a writing experiment for me. It was fun to write and I'll probably continue. Even if just for the uh... riding lessons.


End file.
